


Minor Setback

by GretchenSinister



Series: GretchenSinister's 12 Days of Blacksand [3]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Age Difference, Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23136001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: For DAY 4 - Christmas FruitcakeOkay. So Pitch is a senior at university, Jack is his roommate, Sandy is a children’s librarian.Also Pitch is a dork. Great googly moogly is he a dork.
Relationships: Pitch Black/Sanderson Mansnoozie
Series: GretchenSinister's 12 Days of Blacksand [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1662955
Kudos: 4
Collections: Blacksand Short Fics





	Minor Setback

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 12/15/2013.

“Christmas is in 10 days what the actual glittery fuck.” Jack burst into the apartment like a winter gale with this statement, followed shortly by a literal winter gale.

Pitch glared at him from the kitchen, though the effect was slightly ruined by the fact that he was wearing oven mitts.

Jack slammed the door shut with his foot. “Not that you’d know it by looking in here,” he sighed, flopping down on the couch. Pitch rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the oven. “Seriously,” Jack continued, “rearranging the Halloween decorations and adding paper snowflakes—all of which _I_ made, let me remind you—does not equal decorating for Christmas. I’d be embarrassed to bring anyone here.”

“If you want Christmas decorations,” Pitch retorted, “buy them yourself. My work-study as the night-check-in person at Joyce Hall doesn’t exactly leave a lot left over.”

“We could have got a real tree if you hadn’t stopped me,” Jack muttered.

Pitch scoffed. “You do realize how stupid it would have been for us to be arrested for stealing a blue spruce?”

“Well, at least it smells like Christmas in here now.” Jack flipped over to his stomach. “What are you making?”

“Um…” Damn it all, he didn’t want to explain this to Jack. “It’s a fruitcake.”

“What.”

“A fruitcake.”

“But…why? Isn’t fruitcake awful?”

“I’ve heard it isn’t when you use dried instead of candied fruit.” Pitch said stiffly. “You can have the leftover craisins if you want.”

The latter statement doesn’t distract Jack from the former. “Heard from whooooo?” Jack asked. “Nah, I’m just kidding. There is literally only one person I can imagine you having a conversation about fruitcake with.”

“Indeed?” Pitch swigs from the bottle of rum instead of sprinkling it over the cake.

“Yep.” Jack walks over and tries to take the bottle for his own drink, but Pitch frowns at him and snatches it away. He shrugs and leans on the counter. “Your old man crush.”

“He’s not old.” Pitch sprinkles a few tablespoons of rum on the cake. “He’s a librarian.”

“How much of that rum have you had?”

“Not as much as I need. Look, there’s Christmas party at the public library tonight, and he’s going to be there. We were talking the other day—”

“You mean you still haven’t been kicked out of the library for constantly hanging around in the children’s section? Though I guess it’s pretty obvious that your interest is in the distinguished gentleman _reading_ the stories at storytime—”

“Frost, I am going to _beat_ you with the rum bottle. We were talking the other day about holiday traditions and he mentioned liking fruitcake with dried fruit. So I made him one and I’m going to give it to him at the library Christmas party.” He drinks from the rum again. “If I’m brave enough. God, Jack. He’s the sweetest, kindest person ever, and the way he interacts with kids almost makes _me_ like them, and he knows like everything about children’s literature, and his hair curls like a fucking _angel’s_ , and he’s got this smile and this quiet laugh…” by this point, Pitch had slipped to the floor, one hand in a death grip on the rum, his face turned to the ceiling. He hadn’t asked to fall head over heels for a man at least ten years his senior.

“Uh-huh. And you know what Mr. Wonderful is going to say when you hand him the fruitcake? ‘Thanks Kozz, my wife and I will love this’.”

Pitch paled, but only for a moment. “There’s no wedding ring on either hand. I checked.”

“Partner, then,” Jack mumbled, looking at the recipe that’s open on Pitch’s laptop. “Uh, Pitch? Did you read this recipe all the way through?”

“I’m just to the part about sprinkling rum on the cooled cake,” Pitch replied.

“Hoo boy. Okay. Listen to this.” Jack quickly read some instructions about rum and waxed paper and cheesecloth, then: “Place in an airtight tin, and age for at least 10 weeks.”

“WHAT?” Pitch pulled himself to his feet and to the laptop in two long steps. His face fell as he confirmed what Jack had read, then hardened. “Fine then. It’s a minor setback.”

* * *

Pitch felt awkward as he entered the library party. Technically, it was open to the public, but in practice, it was more of an event oriented toward small children. He clutched the wrapped package in his hands, and glanced around for Sandy. He found him sitting at a craft table where he was helping children make their own ornaments. There was a wide smear of gold glitter on his cheek, and when he smiled, the glitter caught the light. _He looks magical_ , Pitch thought. Then, _I’m going to have a heart attack_.

Sandy sent a little girl off to her parents, proudly holding a clear plastic globe filled with glitter, and in the pause, Pitch approached, giving Sandy a little wave and hoping he didn’t look like “the ghost of Christmas Future” as Jack had called him as he put on his good black coat just before heading over. “Hi, Sandy.”

“Kozz! I’m glad you came,” Sandy said, and smiled at him. _At him_. It was still dizzying. Sandy turned away for a moment, and Pitch gulped nervously. “Katherine?” Sandy called, “Would you mind taking over the ornament table for a bit?”

* * *

They shared cups of hot chocolate from a five-gallon carafe and talked about…well, Pitch wasn’t quite sure. His final papers? Yes, that had been a topic. Which had led to dreams, Sandy loved dreams, he was so beautiful when he talked about them, and he had dreamed of snow just before it snowed, and he was talking about the snow, and Pitch found himself agreeing that the snow was beautiful, magical, and it was, through Sandy’s eyes. Pitch wanted to see the world that way. “Still, I suppose it does interfere with everyone’s travel plans,” Sandy conceded, as they moved a little way away from the table with the food and drink. “I hope you’ll be safe, if you’re travelling.”

“I’m not,” Pitch admitted. “It’s too expensive for me to travel home.” Sandy looked like he was about to say something, but Pitch pressed on. “It’s all right though, if I’m having Christmas early. Um. Tonight, I mean. I brought you something.” _This is about to go terribly wrong_ , he thought, handing his present to Sandy.

But Sandy smiled at him. “Should I unwrap it now?” Pitch nodded.

Sandy did so. “What is it, exactly?” he asked, looking at the bundle covered in waxed paper inside the tupperware.

“So…I’m kind of stupid.” Pitch looked down at the ground. “You mentioned liking fruitcake around Christmas and so I made you one. I didn’t know they were supposed to be aged. At least. That’s what the recipe I made said. So it’ll be ready…” he winced, “around mid-March.”

“This was very sweet of you, Kozz,” said Sandy, and Pitch snapped his head up. “I’m sure we’ll still be seeing enough of each other around that time to make it easy for me to return the container to you.”

Pitch nodded violently.

“But, Kozz, what about this Christmas? Do you have any plans?”

“Well, my roommate’s pretty popular and he’s staying here too. He always finds people to be with. I’ll probably be able to tag along.”

“I don’t know if you’d like this,” Sandy said, and Pitch was astonished to see that he looked a little nervous now, “but you could come to the Christmas dinner my friend North hosts. He always makes enough for three times the number of people officially invited, and he loves new guests. We’re not exactly college students, though. You could bring Jack if that would make you more comfortable.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Pitch said, realizing only after the words left his mouth that maybe his tone was a little too honest.

When he left the library, he gave Sandy the longest hug he felt he could without being weird. He wished he could have made it weird. Sandy hadn’t been pulling away.

“You’ve got glitter all over your coat. And neck?” Jack pointed out when he returned.

“Yes.” Pitch sighed happily.

“O-kay.” Jack shrugged and returned to his videogame. “It’ll never go away, you know.”

“That’s quite all right,” Pitch called from the hallway.

* * *

At North’s party, there’s mistletoe. Sandy leaned cheekily against the doorframe, one hand on his hip, and one holding a glass of eggnog. He kissed everyone who passed through on the cheek. Jack had to shove Pitch forward to get him to take his turn, but once he was there, he decided to go for broke and turn so that the kiss on the cheek turns into a kiss on the lips. _You taste like cinnamon and heaven_ , he wanted to say. But that wasn’t quite right. “I’m sorry?” he said.

Sandy’s eyes flickered over him. “Huh,” he said. “Well, I’m not.” He licked his lips. “But I am a little surprised.”

Pitch took a deep breath, but Jack interrupted. “Consider tall dark and ghoulish my gift to you. Please don’t be surprised, he’s been absolutely _mooning_ , it’s annoying. I’m going to go get more mulled wine now. If I don’t see you in five minutes I’m going to assume terrible things.”

Pitch’s face was brick red.

“Have you been mooning over me?” Sandy asked, his eyebrows raised.

“I…I wasn’t going to say it that way.” Pitch clenched his fists. “Jack better stay far away from me for the rest of the night. Ugh, this is so awkward. I know I’m a dumb kid, I know—”

Sandy stood on his tiptoes and kissed him again. “Well, I may talk to Jack to tell him I like his present very much.”

Oh. “But you don’t think I’m ghoulish, do you? Jack won’t let the way we had to decorate for Christmas go…it’s a long story.”

“I met you when you were nostalgically looking for _Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark_ ,” Sandy reminded him. “So you’re a little ghoulish. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He reached out and took Pitch’s hand.

* * *

Pitch stayed on campus for Spring Break as well. Returning to his apartment one noon, he realized he’d left the empty fruitcake container at Sandy’s. The cake had made a surprisingly good breakfast, but Pitch can’t say it’s strange that he forgot all about the tupperware—Sandy had noted that the cake was incredibly rich, and the chef must be complimented and the calories burned off at once.

Well. All right. He grinned. He’d go back to get it (again) tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Tags and Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> #btw glitter totally becomes a *thing* between them#Jack thinks it's vaguely hilarious and disturbing#his roommate is being covered in glitter body paint by a children's librarian#also Jack you little shit#good thing it worked out between them#Pitch was going to break your snowboard
> 
> emeraldembers reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> This is so fricking cute just let me die Also I think Jack’s opening line in this could be one of my favourite opening lines to any of your fics ever because it just had me in hysterics from the start XD
> 
> (Aww Pitch you failure at reading cooking instructions I sympathise and yet I don’t you cutie patootie <3)
> 
> bowlingforgerbils said: This was absolutely wonderful, Dorky Pitch is the best Pitch. Also Joyce Hall haha I see what you did there.
> 
> tejoxys said: I love the characterization of everybody in this so much. <3 Jack and Pitch, omg, the thing about glitter nEVER going away cracked me up. (Just last month, I found some at work, dumped it on myself, and my best friend refused to hug me for a week.)
> 
> whentheoceanmetsky said: oh no my age-gap monster is positively /purring/ It’s nice to see the tables turned and I’m always up for Pitch being the biggest doof to ever do a thing.
> 
> marypsue reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> Pitch being a big stupid dork who can’t handle feelings is possibly my favourite thing ever. #also: GLITTER!


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